A/N: As I watched The Hollow Crown, a BBC production made in 2012(!) of some of Shakespeare's plays known as the "Henriad" all together, I observed the eventually miserable lives of the kings. And C.C.'s remarks on how the Power of Kings isolates the people who wield it came to mind.

One thought led to more wild thoughts that came one after the other, and… here we are. Title is based off a famous song, and if you guys haven't figured it out already you'll likely figure it out eventually. xD

I consider this an AU because Code Geass's own history is very convoluted and really improbable. So the Shakespeare canon remains pretty much intact, with the semi-historical major characters and minor characters all there. I really really hope I get all the character traits for each of them down; PLEASE let me know if I'm doing ANYTHING wrong and suggest how I can change it.

There are some additions (including C.C., of course!) and alterations, but I'm not going to play all my cards now. You'll have to watch this story present itself. ;)

The curtain rises!

-V-

Live Life or Befriend Death

-V-

The woman regarded her pupil: he was a child, the child of the Black Prince Edward. And now he was King Richard the Second. The boy had been coronated, at the age of ten, once his father died of a long disease.

Tonight she had told him a bedtime story, one with a cheery tone but little truth. Now he slept mostly soundly, which left the woman time to contemplate. So this is what she said.

"Let us…" Hesitant to accidentally wake the sleeping king, she stopped for a brief moment. Then she continued softly.

"Tell sad stories of the death of kings: how some have been depos'd, some slain in war, some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd, some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd."

"All murder'd."

-V-

Twenty-two years later, the woman was by a different bed—one of age rather than youth. John of Gaunt lay in it, ill and near death, but still possessing alert green eyes that watched her.

"If you had made the contract with me, things would not be as they are," she said flatly.

Gaunt chuckled. "Life is full of possibilities that pass men by, many of them only apparent with old age."

"Regardless," he continued, "I am of the same mind about your offer as I was all those years ago."

"Then no it is still." The woman smirked with fondness. It would be too late either way. A contract with those already on their deathbeds is a waste of time.

Still, he was someone with whom she had enjoyed matching wits—his passing would be cause for some sadness, she suspected.

"Now then… shall I carry out your last request of me with due speed and haste?" she asked.

Gaunt nodded. With the last look at him alive she believed she would ever have, the woman turned and walked towards the door of his chamber. But then:

"If you plan to offer your contract to any of my children—nay, any of my descendants—your offer will be in vain."

She stopped in her tracks before regaining her composure. "I only make contracts with those whom I deem worthy."

"And long have you held the House of Lancaster in that regard," the Duke of that same house continued. "And I say again: an attempt to forge a contract with any of us will be a waste of effort. We of this house are proud, and are not inclined to accept… assistance…" he wheezed, "of this sort."

"Pride swells and ebbs with the tide of life, good Lancaster."

"But there is a certain specimen of pride… that is inherent to certain men." John of Gaunt's expression grew prideful itself as he imparted his last lesson to the woman. "It is this pride that compels them to strive for the heights of glory with their own prowess. Yes… some of these men may tread a lonely path. Your contract promises this as well."

"But the Sun rises and sets in time, breaking through the darkness of night or foul vapors and shining with its own light. It exists within the normal flow of providence, the normal flow of time, the normal flow of life. And it is thus I and all my issue strive for the height of glory, and in no way else."

At Gaunt's last statements, she was silent. Perhaps he was right.

But she, she herself lived in a providence, time, life that were different from even those whom she made contracts with. She was not the Sun. She was an inheritor of a power far greater.

So, then, it was entirely possible for her to subvert the Sun and everyone like it. After all, I have outlived most of the people I have known…

Guessing her thoughts, John of Gaunt spoke again. "For all the ways you are different from mortal men, you, too, are still human. And even though I would prefer that you take all my advice, and even if you disregard everything else I have ever told you… Remember that." He lifted an arm and pointed at her. "It is a dying man's request," he quipped at her.

She turned to look at him and smiled, knowing that this was the last time they would ever talk on this earth.

"Goodbye, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster."

His arm lowered, and he smiled back.

"Goodbye, C.C."